


after;

by madoqa



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, Hoshido | Birthright Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madoqa/pseuds/madoqa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even during the summer, Nohrian nights felt like an eternal winter, and Hinoka reluctantly accepted Camilla’s embrace for more than just warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. quotidian

**Author's Note:**

> an "epilogue," relevant to the birthright timeline.  
> an on-going, continuous series of shorts; camillaxhinoka focused, but future additions may include other relationships, etc.
> 
> i haven't written in so long, chapters will be short, far and in between, or both u_u i'm sorry i just want my sad girlfriends to make each other happy

The dip in Hinoka’s shoulders gleam in the dewey moonlight, creases deepening at the corners of her eyes, hips shuddering something desperate beneath her soft touch. A deep sigh, and she lets her gaze slowly wander up, chancing eye contact between every hitch in their synced breaths. It’s just dark enough for her to miss the streaks of violet cascading through her fingers, quiet enough to hear the gentle breeze sweeping the royal blue drapes behind them.

Lost in her self-granted repose, Hinoka doesn’t notice the firm grip at her waist gliding over her stomach and chest to settle at her jaw, until she feels her slender fingers gently cupping her scarlet cheeks.

“You’re--”

“Oh, please don’t--”

“-- _so_ cute.”

Hinoka’s half-hearted groan is lost in Camilla’s light laughter. Pursing her lips, Hinoka turns her head away as Camilla pulls the silk sheets over them both. Hinoka can _feel_ Camilla smiling at the back of her head, and she’s a bit angry with herself for wanting to turn around and kiss the sly thing away. She turns slowly when the urge passes, shifting little so the bed doesn’t creak. Met with a tender gaze and a set of delicate crow’s feet, Hinoka feels the night air sharpen, her senses tingling under such piercing scrutiny.

Camilla’s fingertips find Hinoka’s jawline again and she relaxes, surrendering to the soft touch she longed for ever since their first rendezvous. Even during the summer, Nohrian nights felt like an eternal winter, and Hinoka reluctantly accepted Camilla’s embrace for more than just warmth.

As Camilla’s breaths slow and steady, Hinoka feels her pout melt away, and allows herself a couple sweet seconds to watch Camilla’s chest rise and fall, her eyelids fluttering faintly to rest. For the hundredth time, Hinoka falls asleep in Camilla’s arms--and for the hundredth time, she swears she doesn’t remember the last time she felt so content.


	2. potent

Lady Hinoka. _Princess_ Hinoka.

Beneath the traditional dresses and ceremonial sandals, she wore the bonds that would never allow her to truly feel like a lady, much less a princess. Not adorned, but equipped, with the heaviest armor, decorating only her warrior’s will, feeding the fire to which she likened her proud spirit.

A young Hinoka insisted on using the “real swords,” and Azama could hardly refuse the fervor in the lady’s demands, but he would first have to check with the queen.

“I’m not a lady! I’m a soldier! I’m _strong!_ ” She stamped her feet, glaring at anyone who dared imply she was weak. Indignantly tugging her mother’s robes, her eyes widened to show her just how much she wanted to fight, Hinoka was little older than a child when she knew she would never weave baskets as well as she could wield a naginata.

“And just what does it mean to be strong, darling?” Mikoto knelt, and took her daughter’s hands firmly in her own, looking deeply into her moist eyes. “To carry the heaviest weapons? To run wildly into the thick of war? Or perhaps, you think being strong means to take lives, no matter how many, for the welfare of your own?

“There are many ways to be strong. My darling, I have seen the way you watch your older brother train.” The warmth in Mikoto’s eyes glimmered faintly as she wiped her daughter’s tears.  “It does not matter whether you become a seamstress or a soldier. You will always be this kingdom’s beloved princess, and above all, my precious daughter.”

In Hinoka’s budding teenage years, training became her routine; strength, her mantra. The princess grew out of her crown and forged herself a helmet. Her retainers, sworn to their highness, became her cohort before they ever got a chance to bow. To the delight of the nation, Hinoka honed her skills to stand among her brigade’s strongest. From “darling” to “princess” to Commander, Hinoka felt that she’d at last found her calling. At the ceremony, the queen looked on with pleasure, the crown prince beaming at her side, as Hinoka accepted the fruits of her tenacity, the confirmation of her strength.

Hinoka had never truly felt like a princess, and now she would never have to. When war broke out, she led her troops into battle, the pride of Hoshido burning in her eyes, the lives of her people weighing on her back. Although she knew the inevitability of bloodshed, she feared destruction, and she made it her mission to fight for peace, as had her mother. She believed this was what set her apart from the ruthless warriors of Nohr.

Battle wore on, until the rival kingdoms were united, at long last. Hinoka returned home to the cheers and gratitude of a peaceful nation. They’d won, and she now knew more than strength; she knew glory.

The Hoshidan civilians celebrated with vats of liquor, singing and dancing late into the night, while the laypeople of Nohr kept to their homes, grateful for the war’s end and the safety of their families. Everywhere, people mourned the dead and scattered flower petals in the wind, praying they rested in peace, knowing their sacrifices bore fruit.

The Hoshidan royal family hosted a banquet, at which the Nohrian prince and princess were attending as the guests of honor. They dined in silence, the combination of traditional Hoshidan cuisine and the finest wine in all of Nohr blending with the bittersweet dusk air, the lost lives of loved ones weighing heavily on everyone’s hearts.

Hinoka sat across Princess Camilla. She studied the elegant curls that framed her face, the curve of her jawline and the soft dullness in her somber eyes. She was sitting before a true princess, the incarnation of proper etiquette, poise, and femininity. In the palpable absence of Nohr's crown prince and youngest princess, Hinoka was suddenly acutely aware of her own siblings, alive, well, and sitting beside her.

“Let us drink,” King Ryouma raised his glass, as the night came to a close. The rest followed suit. “To those who are no longer with us, and to peaceful days henceforth. None of their deaths shall have been in vain.”

And when Princess Camilla gracefully set down her glass with a melancholy smile, Hinoka finally understood.

Her mother had been right: strength took many forms. And Hinoka felt her bravery in battle could never be likened to Princess Camilla’s emotional grit.


	3. trace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> orochi dabbles in healing ok

It hurt, very much.

With a whine, Hinoka pulls away from Orochi’s sticky palms. They’re coated in a clear gel, shining in the sunlight streaming through the open windows. Hinoka bites her lip as she studies the deep but thin cut in her thigh, no longer bleeding, but stinging sharply under Orochi’s fingertips.

Orochi chuckles. “Lady Hinoka, this will hasten the healing process. It may hurt a little now, but you will thank me later.”

“It’s nothing,” Hinoka huffs, leaning back into her futon. “It barely even hurt before Sakura called for you.”

“Uncharacteristic of you, milady, to sustain an injury at all in a friendly spar.”

Looking away, Hinoka wills down the heat rising to her cheeks. Orochi was right, but Hinoka wasn’t about to admit what--or  _ who _ \--had been on her mind when Setsuna’s arrow was half a second too fast for Hinoka to dodge. Hinoka gasps when she feels the cool ointment on her leg again. She didn’t resist this time, and instead held her breath as she waited for Orochi to finish and the pain to subside.

She’d been stretching in the dojo alone when Setsuna approached, her yumi slung over her shoulder. She was headed to the targeting range when Hinoka, contemplating her lack of experience in fighting ranged weapons, suggested she and Setsuna try something new.

“Try to hit me, and I’ll dodge and deflect.”

“Shouldn’t you wear more armor, milady?”

“Don’t worry,” Hinoka grinned, parting her feet and settling into a poised lunge. “You only get ten shots, when I say. And don’t underestimate me because I’m on the ground, I’m pretty fast on my feet too.”

Setsuna smiled vaguely and took her yumi in her hand. When she took aim, her lazy gaze somehow seemed to sharpen, piercing Hinoka’s eyes before her arrow could. Hinoka shuddered slightly before she gave the signal. Setsuna’s aim was impeccable, but Hinoka brought her blade up in time to send it to the left and behind her.

They continued like this, Hinoka nimbly darting and rolling across the floor, occasionally flourishing her naginata in response to Setsuna’s particularly precise shots. Sakura stopped by on her way to the town square, sitting shyly on the steps as she watched them in awe, applauding softly when Hinoka winked at her as she deflected an arrow without even looking.

“Come on, Setsuna!” Hinoka called, brandishing her blade, “Don’t hold back! I know you can do better than that!”

Setsuna smiled sheepishly as she strung her next arrow.

“My apologies, milady… Lately I have been practicing more than usual and I would hate to cause you any harm…” She trailed off, letting her arrow fly straight for Hinoka’s throat. She was already aiming her next when Hinoka ducked in time. “And,” Setsuna continued, eyeing her target with precision despite her speech, “Forgive me for saying so, but you are just… too cute for me to hurt intentionally.”

For the first time, Hinoka faltered. She felt as if her heart skipped a beat, delaying her the crucial half second she needed to decide and act on her defensive move. Hinoka blinked, her mouth opened dumbly, and she found herself on her knees, blood trickling down her leg. By the time her retainer and sister were at her side, she was already blushing, her face only a couple shades lighter than her hair.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. She let Sakura gently push her into a sitting position. “I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt!” But Sakura was not having any of it, and immediately headed for the palace infirmary to get help after she expertly wrapped the wound. Hinoka was left along with Setsuna, who knelt and bit her lip, looking even more somber than usual. Noticing the rare and subtle signs that she was about to cry, Hinoka placed her hand on her shoulder, smiling kindly and trying to ignore how hot her cheeks felt.

“I’m so sorry Lady Hinoka, I don’t know what came over me… I should never have accepted your proposal…” Setsuna trembled, trying to contain her sobs.

“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault!” Hinoka assured her. “You just caught me a bit off guard when you called me--” She stopped abruptly, clamping her mouth shut and swiftly looking away. Setsuna held her head in her hands as her tears fell. Hinoka patted her shoulder in silence, bringing her own free hand to her face, and cursing herself for flustering so easily. They waited together for help to arrive, Hinoka too distracted to feel the pain in her cut.

_ You’re so cute. _

A gentle voice, not Setsuna’s, echoed again and again in Hinoka’s ears. By the time Sakura arrived with Orochi by her side, Setsuna had been reduced to soft sniffles, but Hinoka remained beet red.


End file.
